“Why didn’t you invite me up to your room?” I pant out while he continues to kiss the swell of my breast and roll my nipple between his thumb and finger.
“I have no fucking idea.”
“You could take me there now.”
Chapter 12
Owen
“I’m all sandy and I smell like grease,” she says as I slide the key card into my hotel room door. “Would you mind if I took a quick rinse-off shower?”
“I think you smell delicious,” I tell her, kissing the hollow behind her ear. “But of course. You get in the shower, and I’ll call for more towels.”
We walk to the hotel room, and it’s almost bizarre how comfortable we both seem. Liv kicks off her sandals in front of the closet and reaches her hand behind her neck to stretch. I can’t take my eyes off the soft curve of her neck. I want to lean in and press a quiet kiss there.
She offers me a gentle smile, and it’s like we’re coming back toourhotel room after a day of being tourists on a couple’s getaway. She’s going to take a shower while I order room service, and then we’ll get into bed to eat French fries and cuddle. I’ll rub her feet, sore from walking around and seeing the sights all day, and the foot rub will turn into more intimate caresses, evolving into lazy vacation lovemaking. Suddenly, that’s all I want.
“What?” She looks at me laughing, and I realize I’ve been staring at her during my daydream.
“Nothing.” I look down, and I know I’m blushing.
“You are pretty adorable,” she says, coming close and wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I’m not sure if adorable is a compliment a man likes to hear,” I chuckle, but I grip her waist and kiss her slowly.
“It is.” She pulls back and smiles, and all I can think is—I want to remember this. The crinkle in her eyes, that perfect bow of her lip. I want to carry it with me, always. “I’ll be right back.” She gives me another quick kiss and disappears into the bathroom.
The water turns on, and of course, I’m picturing her naked on the other side of the door. But I’m also picturing waking up next to her tomorrow, all sleep-mussed and warm skin pressed against mine. And I’m almost as excited about that.
Last night was fast and frantic and hot as fuck, but I want to take my time tonight. I want to revisit all the ways I’ve learned to make her gasp and sigh, and I want to spend hours—maybe the rest of my life—learning all the other ways to please her.
When housekeeping delivers the towels, I momentarily wonder what to do with them. I knock gently on the bathroom door. “I’ll leave your towels on the hook here.”
“You can come in,” she calls through the closed door. My pulse rate increases, and I’m instantly hard.Chill the fuck out, dude.I step into the steamy little room and set the towels on the sink. “Here you go,” I say, and start to back out.
“Stay,” she says. “I want to talk.”
“Okay,” I say, a little unsure, and lean against the counter. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she pokes her head out from behind the shower curtain. She’s all wet and flushed, and soap bubbles are dripping down the side of her face. “I just want to talk more.” Then she tucks herself back into her shower. “How did you decide to become a literary agent?”
“Oh, I—” My insides heave with how much I love this. “I wanted to be a writer in college. I attended a panel discussionabout the publishing industry, but I was more fascinated by the agent on the panel. I went up to her after the talk, and while everyone else was asking if they could pitch their book idea, I asked if she would tell me how I could do her job.”
“Really?” she asks from inside the cloud of steam. “That’s so cool. What did she say?”
“She offered to meet for coffee, and then offered me an internship when I finished school, and then offered me a job. I’m still with her agency today. It’s worked out pretty well.”
“That is wild to me,” Liv says. The water shuts off, and suddenly I panic, heading for the door. She pulls back the shower curtain, still blocking most of her body, but I can see the curve of her bare hip and the swell of her breast behind the thin curtain, and my breath catches. “Hand me a towel,” she holds out her hand, and I do.
“I’ve had, like, a million different jobs,” she says, stepping out of the shower and tucking the towel between her breasts. Her skin is pink and flushed and still damp, and I want to lick off every water droplet from her body. “And you’ve had one job since college?”
“I guess I’ve always known what I wanted when it was right in front of me.”
Liv looks up from where she’s rubbing a towel through her hair, and her gaze catches on mine. She pulls her lip between her teeth, like she did that first night at the bar. This time, though, I reach out and glide my thumb across it, coaxing it free, and let my thumb linger against the soft curve of her mouth.
“What do you want right now?” she says, her voice a little breathy.
I push off the counter and scoop her body into my arms. She lets out a delighted squeal.
